The Jetty
by kalessinsdaughter
Summary: His dragon captured, Dagur finds himself injured behind enemy lines. Partial gap-filler for Family on the Edge (s05e11 of RTTE).


**A/N: ****One shot, written for The Great Hall of Whump discord October Prompts **

* * *

When Dagur began his attack on Viggo's shipyard, he didn't have much of a plan; make a first pass to make them reveal their positions, and then take it from there.

At first, it had been exhilarating: the satisfaction of being proved right about the trap, the shock on the Hunters' faces, and the sheer joy of battle. But when the first rush of adrenaline wore off, he saw, with a sinking heart, that the trap had closed, and there was no way out.  
He'd known from the start that it was likely to end like this, but that made it no easier.

Bracing himself, he gave Shattermaster a comforting pat, and then went all in, Berserker style.

#

They had taken out more than half the ships when the arrow hit him, punching into his thigh. The impact was numbing, making him double over, clutching at his leg. That's why he didn't see the fire-shot coming at him until Shattermaster rolled to avoid it. He almost managed to dodge it, but the scorching heat seared his upper arm, the flash of pain hitting him like a physical blow. He lost his balance and fell, screaming, towards the chaos below.

With a strange clarity, he saw Shattermaster bank hard, turn, and begin to dive after him. He started to shout for his dragon to stay clear but was abruptly cut short when he slammed into the rig of a sinking ship, pain exploding in his side, taking his senses from him.

Next thing he knew, he was underwater, choking on a mouthful of seawater, his arm and side hurting like fire. His leg still numb, he kicked frantically, making for the surface. With his lungs screaming for air, he managed to find a field of debris hidden from view, to surface in. The air that finally filled his lungs was thick with smoke from the burning ships, but he sucked it down greedily anyway.

First things first, he felt along his leg until he found the arrow. Just touching it sent a stab of agony through his thigh. He grabbed the arrow with both hands and, biting down hard to hold in a scream, managed to break off the shaft, almost blacking out in the process.

When the world came back into focus, he became aware that the Dragon Hunter captain was yelling at his men to put the oar-boats out, to search for 'that worthless traitor'.

He nodded grimly to himself. Well, he'd saved a knife for that event; they wouldn't take him alive.

That's when he saw Shattermaster attack the search parties.

He hadn't given much thought to that. If anything, he had just assumed that the dragon would save himself, fly away free, when he fell. But the little gronckle was trying to protect his rider, driving the Hunters away from the spot where he had fallen.  
He wanted to scream at Shattermaster to stop, to leave him, to get out of there! But he could only watch, helpless, as the Hunters caught his dragon.  
Even when he tried to set things right, he screwed up! His dragon was captured, and it was his fault.

He groaned with despair. _Stupid, stupid, stupid, you just never think!_

He couldn't abandon Shattermaster to captivity, and worse. Which meant he had to stay alive. And he… hadn't planned for that.

At least the little dragon's bravery bought him time. While the Dragon Hunters were intent on subduing Shattermaster and putting him in a cage, Dagur made his way unseen to the end of the jetty and ducked under the front

Out of sight in the semi-darkness, he made for the rocks at the back. He pulled himself up out of the water, wincing as his injuries protested, and rolled onto his back. Sharp stabs of pain in his side was making breathing difficult. Broken ribs, definitely. He knew from experience that there wasn't anything he could do about that. He lay still for a while, panting, before he turned his attention to his leg.

He grimaced at what he saw. The arrow was stuck deep in the outside of his thigh, a steady stream of blood seeping out around the broken-off shaft. Gritting his teeth, he probed the wound. He thought he could feel an ordinary arrowhead in there before his hands were shaking too badly to continue. At least it wasn't the kind designed to cut up the wound with each movement. Still, there was no way he could get it out intact, so he left the arrow in and tied it up as well as he could, tearing strips from his under-tunic for bandages.

The burn on his arm was beginning to throb and tingle with pain. It was hard to see, and he brought up his hand to feel it, wincing at the touch. His questing fingers found blisters as well as wet patches of raw burn, on his shoulder and running down to his elbow. Great. And he had nothing to treat it with.

Slumping back against the rock, he closed his eyes with a shaky sigh. He knew he should be making plans to find and free Shattermaster, but Freya's mercy, he needed some rest first.

After a while, he heard the search parties start returning to shore. The men were complaining that it was impossible to find a body in all the debris. Someone remarked that they might as well just wait for the scum to float to the surface, to general laughter.

Dagur smiled wryly to himself. So they thought he was dead, huh? Well, he had _something _going for him, then.

By the sounds of it, they were already busy clearing up the debris and beginning repairs. Remarkably fast, he thought at first, but yeah, right: it had been a trap. Of course a guy like Viggo would have planned for the aftermath.  
So he really should have seen it coming. But when he heard the captain order the Hunters to load Shattermaster's cage on board one of the undamaged ships, and take him to Viggo, it felt like someone had taken a knife to his heart.

His dragon was being shipped away, and there was no way he could follow.

Tears burning at the corners of his eyes, he tried to think what to do, but his mind was stupid with pain and exhaustion, and his thoughts wouldn't stay focused. All he could think was that he had lost the trust of everyone he cared about, and now he'd betrayed the trust of his dragon, too. At that moment, he wanted to just give up, to lie down and never wake up. It would be so easy, he only had to loosen the bandages on his leg, and…

_No!_

He clenched his fists. No. He owed it to Shattermaster. Somehow, he would find a way to go after him and rescue him. Something would come up, something he could act on: he was good at grasping opportunities. Checking that his leg wasn't bleeding through the bandages, he settled down to wait, steeling himself to stay awake, hoping that the pain would keep his growing fatigue at bay.

#

Despite his best efforts, he must have dozed off, because it was evening when he opened his eyes to the sound of an argument. A trade ship had hailed the shipyard, and the Hunters didn't seem too pleased with that. They were trying to make the traders leave without doing business, and the traders were objecting, claiming hospitality.  
He heard the skipper manage to negotiate the right to take on board fresh water and stay overnight, but they were forbidden to go beyond the jetty, or to sell any of their goods.

It seemed like a good idea to wait for darkness and stow away on that ship.

###


End file.
